A-art
I knew art. I knew him since the day i was born. As if art was meant to be mine - my soul mate. I met art when I was a little kid. I saw him everywhere. Art was breathtaking. His colors reminded me of a rainbow that was glued neatly on the soft blue sky. His shapes reminded me of my first drawing of a house when I was five. I was devoted to art. I praised him like he was a god. I even thought that my love for art would fill the space and distance between life and death. Until that day I thought I lost him. I haven't seen anything that would remind me of art. As if a black abyss blinded me from seeing how wonderful art was. I haven't seen his shapes nor his colors for a long time. My life suddenly turned dull and I would mourn everyday. I wasn't ready to forget everything that art and I had. Then I started feeling different when my hands suddenly reached for a paper and a pen and I drew the most wonderful sketch no one had ever seen. And I would feel great, almost powerful. Then did I realize that I didn't lose art. For art was inside me.
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